


Dreaming of You

by BadWolfRose (BadWolf1988)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, AntiFundie Themes, Dreaming, Early90s, F/M, Family, Fluff, Little Sam and Dean, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2019-11-29 08:55:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18220961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadWolf1988/pseuds/BadWolfRose
Summary: Atara had always been a good little Christian girl stuck in fundamentalist hell. Her life takes a major turn for the better when she starts dreaming of a mysterious man standing on the banks of a lake. What happens when Atara's dream man turns out to really exist? Read and find out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own it. I haven't even seen all of it. I'm like three seasons behind and I have been ever since I got married and had to do the whole adult thing. I'm always behind on EVERYTHING. On that note, I'm tired of being an adult for the day so I'll be coloring in my overused checkbook in the corner.
> 
> Author's Note: I'm not attacking Christianity in this story. I am a (liberal) Christian, we've gone over this before. I AM straight-up attacking the Duggar family and their quiverfull lifestyle because it is insane, bad for our planet (we're overpopulated here on earth), against the Christianity that I was taught, and it enslaves women and sweeps sexual abuse under the wrong and punishes the victims. I have every right to my opinion. I actually briefly was forced into that lifestyle as a teenager and it did some damage that took a long time to repair. If you're a Duggar fan...PLEASE STOP DRINKING THE KOOL-AID AND TAKE OFF THE WHITE NIKES! Sorry, not sorry.
> 
> Author's Note II: In the 'Supernatural' timeline this is taking place in roughly 1989/1990 (when I was a wee one of only two so feel free to correct era-related mistakes because I don't have many memories prior to roughly 1992. lol) although as usual, I will be messing with facts sooner rather than later.

**_“Eve was not taken out of Adam's head to top him, neither out of his feet to be trampled by him, but out of his side to be equal with him, under his arm to be protected by him, and near his heart to be loved by him.”_ **

**\- Matthew Henry**

  
_Not this again. I was getting so sick of this! Every night since my eighteenth birthday I had dreamt of him. I didn't know who 'him' was. He was an older man. Not old, just older. He had dark hair, a nice body, and was ruggedly handsome. I never got close enough to learn anymore, not even his eye color. Every time I saw him I was floating in a wooden rowboat on the waters of a lake that I didn't recognize.  The mystery man was standing on the grass-lined shore, his hands in his pockets, looking at me with an expression that was best described as sad...or maybe it was lonely..._

_The boat suddenly lurched forward before beginning to slowly drift towards the shore. Okay. In two months of dreaming this had never happened before. When the boat finally reached the shore, the man silently reached out a hand to help me disembark._

_“And here I was starting to think you were antisocial,” I quipped. This was a dream and he was a figment of my imagination. The shy little fundamentalist Christian girl could take a backseat._

_“The boat was only going to bring you to me when you actually wanted it to.”_

_Oh. Wow. He had a voice that was like pure honey. Deep, husky, and with just a touch of a southern twang to it. I knew that the Bible said that it was wrong to lust after a man but that was exactly what I was doing and whoever this imaginary man was I had dreamed up was probably old enough to be my father. “Who are you?”_

_“The name's John, sweetheart. John Winchester.” He nodded at me in greeting._

_Well, that was a new one. Since when did imaginary people have last names? It must have been a name that stuck in my head from that Christian pro-gun rally that my dad had dragged the whole family to last week I reasoned. “My name's Atara,” I needlessly informed my own subconscious. “Atara Draper.”_

_John gave me a little half-smile. “Atara means crown in Hebrew.”_

_“My dad's a Christian missionary. My brothers and sisters and I all have names that can be found in the Bible.”_

_“How many brothers and sisters do you have, sweetheart?”_

_“Thirteen.” Shouldn't he/I know this stuff already?_

_John whistled. “Quiverfull Christians?”_

_I nodded._

_“My friend's a pastor at a church that has a lot of fundamentalists and quiverfull families. Gotta say, princess, I really don't understand that way of thinking.”_

_“Neither do I,” I mumbled under my breath. I just wasn't normally allowed to admit that without being shipped away to some deep south reeducation center masquerading as a Christian youth camp._

_John laughed a little before reaching out and brushing some of my blonde hair behind my ear. “You're about to wake up, princess, but the next time you close those pretty brown eyes of yours I'd love to talk to you more.”_

Sure enough, John was right. Immediately after his words were spoken I blinked my eyes and when I opened them they were sleep-filled and looking at the ceiling in my bedroom.


	2. Chapter 2

After two weeks of nightly visitations with John, I was starting to suspect that he wasn't a figment of my imagination after all. He knew both too much and too little at the same time. He seemed to know everything about the dreamscape we were in but always seemed to be genuinely surprised when he learned something new about me. I decided to confront him on a day where I was already fired up from a conversation that I had had earlier in the day with my father. 

_“Are you real?” I demanded as soon as I stepped off the boat. “And don't give me any philosophical answer. Just tell me the truth.”_

_“How does a little fundie Christian girl like you know what philosophy is?” John smirked and raised an eyebrow at me._

_“Because I stole a book by Plato before my dad's last book burning,” and proceeded to hide it under my bed like it was porn. “No changing the subject! I've had a bad enough day as it is. Tell me the truth, John!”_

_“Everything your daddy believes in and fears is real. Angels, demons, witches, things you've never even heard of or had nightmares about. It's all real, sweetheart.” John took a step closer. “People like me, hunters, do our best to protect people from those things but sometimes we mess up.”_

_“What are you talking about?” If he started spewing out stuff from the book of Revelations I'd know that my suspicions were wrong and he was imaginary. I dreamed weird crap from Revelations every time I was feeling guilty about not fully believing in my family's faith._

_“I took out this witch in Oklahoma who was feeding her dark magic with the blood of virgins. Once she was dead, I came across a spell that I thought was harmless,” John explained. “It revealed the name of your soul mate. I thought it would be my late wife, Mary, who was killed by a demon five years ago.”_

_“And?” Even if none of this was true my brain had gotten very creative and this was, at least, a really good story._

_“I learned some hard truths about Mary. The biggest one being that she wasn't my soul mate.”_

_“Who is?”_

_John gave me a pointed look._

_“You have to be kidding me,” I was growing angry again. “Ya know, I'm getting really sick and tired of people telling me who I'm supposed to be with. I don't care what my dad says or thinks, I have a mind of my own and I'm not just going to fall in love with whoever I'm told to!” I was sobbing by the time I finished my little tirade. Actually, it was more like completely breaking down. If a person was capable of having a nervous breakdown in their dreams that's exactly what was happening._

_John surprised me when he wrapped me in his arms. “Breathe, sweetheart. Just because you're my soul mate doesn't mean that we have to be together. I'd never force myself on you, Atara.” He affectionately kissed the top of my head._

_A man was giving me free will. It was such a foreign concept to me that I found myself sobbing even harder._

_“Baby girl, this can't all be about me. What's going on? You were obviously already upset before you fell asleep. You can talk to me.”_

_“My dad is forcing me into a courtship,” I managed to spit out between heaving sobs._

_John took a seat on the shoreline and gently pulled me to sit beside him, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “What's a courtship?”_

_“It's like being engaged to be engaged,” I explained as I started to catch myself and the tears began to subside a little. “Chaste dating with the intention of marriage.”_

_“Chaste?”_

_“We're not allowed to kiss or have sex until we're married, we always have a chaperone on dates, our phone calls are monitored, and we're not even allowed to hold hands or give each other hugs from the front until we're actually engaged which usually happens within just a few months of a courtship starting.” That had never been the kind of relationship I wanted and now it was being forced on me. “And the boy my dad chose for me has been sent to a pray the gay away camp three times. He's repressed! I don't want to court yet alone marry Collin!”_

_“Than don't baby girl,” John squeezed me in a reassuring way._

_I laughed bitterly. “Women aren't allowed to say no in my world. We're not allowed to say no, have a job, an opinion...we're not even allowed to be depressed. That's a sin and means we must be somehow living our lives wrong. The only sane Christian I know is Pastor Jim.”_

_I felt John momentarily tense up beside me before he once again relaxed. “Baby girl, where do you live? I know the spell won't let you give me your exact location but what state do you live in?”_

_“Minnesota, why?” That's all that would leave my mouth. I tried to be more specific but I couldn't._

_“Blue Earth, Minnesota?”_

_I nodded._

_John chuckled huskily. “You and I have a friend in common, sweetheart. Part of this spell makes it where we can't share our exact location with each other. A built-in curse to drive the caster insane if he or she can't find their soul mate. We lucked out though. How badly do you want out of that courtship? Are you willing to leave home? Leave your family behind?”_

_“Yes,” I hadn't even needed time to think about it. Escaping had always been my dream._

_“When you wake up, go and see Pastor Jim. You know you can trust him. Tell him that you need to get in touch with his hunter friend, John, the one from Kansas.” John spoke slowly as he gave me instructions. “Pastor Jim does research for hunters. He'll give you the phone number where you can reach me at the moment and I can prove to you that I'm real. If you really want out, I'll come and get you, no strings attached.”_

_“What if I wanted strings...just slow strings?” If John was real, he was exactly the kinds of man that I wanted to be with. He was a protective alpha male but he wasn't domineering. Over the past few weeks, we had become friends. I loved talking to him. A friend and an equal partner, that's all I wanted. I didn't need Prince Charming._

_John yanked on my arm, pulling me closed until I was literally straddling his lap. My dad would have had a heart attack if he saw us. He reached up and cupped my cheek. “I'll give you whatever you want or need, baby girl.”_


	3. Chapter 3

My hands were shaking as I approached the closed door of Pastor Jim's office. If John was just a vivid product of my very active but repressed imagination I was about to make a major fool of myself and I was probably going to have to marry a gay guy. I had told my parents that I wanted to meet with Pastor Jim and pray about my new courtship. I was behaving like a good little fundie girl without argument so my dad was happy to drive me.

I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. 

“Come in,” came Pastor Jim's voice. 

“Come in,” a tiny little voice echoed. It was probably little Sammy or Dean. They were the kids of one of Pastor Jim's friends that often stayed with the man of God. They were like nephews to him.

I opened the door and stepped inside. 

“Tara!” I was right. Sam and Dean were back in town. Five-year-old Sammy was the only person who ever left the A off when he said my name. I had always thought that it was adorable. Sammy ran and jumped into my arms. “I missed you.” He squeezed my neck uncomfortably tight in a hug. 

“Hey, Tar-Tar.”

I knew that nickname as well. Turning to my left, I found nine-year-old Dean waiting patiently for his turn to hug me. I set Sam back on the ground and pulled Dean in got a hug. “Hey there, Deano. I've missed you guys too.” I really had. I had been babysitting them for Pastor Jim since I was a tween. Dean had been four and Sam an infant when I first met them. They were cool kids and not brainwashed fundies. Sammy was extra cuddly and liked to be read to. Dean was more standoffish but affectionate in his own way. One time, before his dad (whom I had never once met) came to pick the boys up, Dean had presented me with a mixtape. I knew the track list by heart. 

 _1\. Bad Moon Rising_  
2\. Don't Fear The Reaper  
3\. Werewolves of London  
4\. When the Children Cry  
5\. Hey Jude  
6\. Ghost Rides On The Storm  
7\. Sweet Child of Mine  
8\. Wanted Dead or Alive  
9\. Knockin' On Heaven's Door  
10\. Carry On Wayward Son

It was my favorite tape. I kept it hidden beneath a loose floorboard in my room because every song on the tape went against my father's belief structure. 

“What can I do for you this morning, Atara?” Pastor Jim asked from his place at his desk where he was composing Sunday's morning sermon. 

“I need the current phone number for someone and I think you may have it,” I nervously twisted my hands together. 

Pastor Jim reached for his church contact directory. “Sure, kiddo, whose?”

“Your hunter friend, John,” I repeated exactly what John had told me to. “The one from Kansas.”

“555-1712. He uses one of those new mobile phone things.” 

Now it was my turn to be shocked. I turned to look at Dean.

“He's my dad,” the little boy shrugged.

John was real. John was real and he had kids. Sam and Dean were John's kids. I suddenly had a hard time breathing and the room started to spin before all I knew was darkness. Pastor Jim calling my name was the last thing I heard. 


	4. Chapter 4

_“You have kids,” were the first words out of my mouth once I had reached the dreamscape. I was just lucky to catch John as he slept in that morning._

_“Pastor Jim tell ya?” John asked as he helped me out of the rowboat._

_“No,” I shook my head. “Dean did. I've been babysitting him and Sam since Sammy was just a baby. I knew you were married before. I wouldn't have been upset that you have kids. I love your kids, John.”_

_This actually made him smile. He pulled me closer and wrapped his arms around my waist. “At first, I never thought you'd want to be with me. Then I wanted to at least tell you over the phone, not in a dream. You're Sammy and Dean's Tar-Tar aren't you?”_

_I chuckled and nodded. “Dean had trouble saying my name when he was smaller. I've been Tar-Tat ever since although Sammy's taken to calling me Tara the last year or so.”_

_“So, you love my boys and my boys love you. I don't see us having a problem with you joining us on the road.” John kissed my forehead. “Baby girl, why didn't you just call me?”_

_I blushed what I'm sure was a rather fetching shade of scarlet. “Because I kind of fainted in Pastor Jim's office when I found out that Sam and Dean are yours and that you're really, ya know, real.” I'm sure Pastor Jim was freaking out. I just hoped that he hadn't called my parents. “I'm waiting for someone to wake me up.”_

_John full-on belly laughed before replying, “well, when you do come around, call me. I'll be in Blue Earth to pick up the boys in two days. I'd like to pick you up too.”_

_***_  
I woke up with a start, the stench of rotten eggs in my nose. “What in the – ” I tried to sit up.

“Easy kiddo,” Pastor Jim pushed me to lay back on his office couch that I now found myself laying on. In his hand, he held an open packet of smelling salts. So, that's where the rotten egg stench had come from.

“Pastor Jim,” Dean called from the direction of the holy man's desk. “Dad's on the phone and wants to talk to Atara.”

“How did John even know you were here?” Pastor Jim had a look of confusion on his face.

I slowly pushed myself into a seated position. “You know John's job, the one you help him with? That's how we met but not in a bad or dangerous way.” I didn't know how much the boys knew about what their dad did so I spoke as generally as possible.

Pastor Jim understood and nodded before getting up and taking the phone from Dean, pulling the cord so the old desk phone would reach the couch. He handed me the receiver without saying a word.

I took a deep breath and brought the receiver to my ear. “John?”

“Yeah, baby girl. Are you alright? You didn't hit your head when you fainted or anything?” The worry in his tone made me smile. “I'm fine, John. I'm not sure how much pride I have left but physically I'm okay.”

John chuckled huskily. “Good to hear. So, am I picking you up when I come to get my boys?”

I swallowed nervously before I answered, “yes.”

“Alright, darlin', I'll up everything with Pastor Jim. You just be ready when the time comes.”

I was ready now.


	5. Chapter 5

“Bob, Michah, from the prayer session I had with Atara today it's clear to me that she's conflicted about entering into a courtship,” Pastor Jim sat in front of my parents in his office and lied like it was going out of style. “Her faith is strong and she told me herself how much she wants to be a wife and a mother but she's scared. She doesn't want to fail God or her family.”

I watched both of my parents' faces soften at the description of a conversation that had never happened. 

“How do we help her, Pastor Jim,” my dad asked seriously. You would have thought that he had just been told that I had cancer and he wanted to know what the treatment options were. 

“I'd advise holding off on a courtship and giving her some practice at taking care of a family outside of her own.” Pastor Jim started scribbling on a note pad. “I have a friend from Kansas. His name is John Winchester. He's a widower with two small boys. He's looking for a live-in nanny because he's on the road a lot for business. He's looking for a nice, Christian girl with good morals. I think Atara would be a good fit for the good and it would help her overcome her fears about entering into a courtship. He'll actually be coming through town in a few days. Here's his phone number.”

I really hoped this worked. If it didn't, John and Pastor Jim's plan B involved me sneaking out my bedroom window in the middle of the night. I was a klutz. I'd end up getting hurt if we went with plan B.

“Bob,” my mom looked at my dad with that stupid doe-eyed expression that seemed to be permanently on her face. She was like a child, seeking his approval. There was something decidedly incestuous about it. It had always creeped me out. When you get married you should want a husband, not another daddy. “This sounds like just what she needs. It's what we've been praying for.”

“I agree,” Dad turned his head and gave Mom her much sought after nod of approval. “We'll give this John Winchester a ring today.”

Even though this was exactly what I wanted, I couldn't help but feel angry that at no point was I consulted when my parents made a major life-altering decision for me. I was so glad I was getting out.

  
_*****  
I didn't know for sure what the outcome of my dad's call to John was until I fell asleep that night._

_He had a huge smile on his face when I stepped off the boat. “There's my new nanny.”_

_“My dad's letting me go?” I must have lit up like a Christmas tree._

_John nodded. “Yep. I'll be on your doorstep at 8 AM sharp on Saturday morning, baby girl. Your dad said he wanted to let you get a good night's sleep before he told you.”_

_At that moment, I did something very out of character for me. I squealed and threw my arms around his neck. John didn't mind. He wrapped his arms around my waist and held me tightly. “You sure you're ready for this life, baby girl?” He kissed my temple. “Are you going to be able to handle a life that's lived on the road, going from one motel to the next with two small kids?”_

_“I can handle it.” I pulled back to look at him. “I want this life, John, with you, and the boys.”_

_John just stared at me for a moment with a small grin on his face before reaching out, gripping my chin, and coaxing me closer so he could give me my first kiss. It was gentle and chaste. I could tell that he was worried about pushing me too far and I appreciated his concern._

_“Am I booking three rooms or just two at our next stop, baby girl?” John's voice was husky when he spoke._

_I froze in his arms. I wasn't ready for that. While I was nothing like my parents, I was still a Christian. After finding out that angels and demons were real, how could I not be? I wasn't sure where I stood on the subject of sex before marriage. I needed more time to think and pray about it._

_John chuckled and kissed my cheek. “Counter offer: at our next stop we'll get one double room. Boys in one bed, us in the other. That way you know there's no pressure.”_

_I relaxed in his arms and smiled. “I like that offer.”_

_“Good,” he kissed me quickly. “But I am going to warn you; after a few nights sharing a room with Dean and Sammy you're going to learn to appreciate the beauty of connecting rooms.”_


	6. Chapter 6

I played my role well when my dad called me into his office, sat me down, and told me that my new job. I pretended to be sad at the thought of leaving home but I agreed that it was for the best. It was part of God's plan for my life. After our conversation, he had pulled me into the large main of the house, gathered my mom, brothers, and sister, and led the entire family in a group prayer. I really almost screamed bloody murder. I was so glad when I was excused to go to my room to pack.

My room wasn't just my room. I shared it with my six younger sisters:  Rebecca, Grace, Mariam, Eve, Delilah, and Hannah. I had a twin bed but the rest of the girls had dormitory-style bunk beds. We each had a small dresser along one wall and footlockers lined another. That was the extent of our personal space but it wasn't private. Mom conducted what she called 'Jesus Searches' of our dressers and footlockers on a weekly basis. She was looking for 'immodest dress' and banned books. She never found anything. We all learned young to hide stuff under our beds because our airheaded mother never stopped to look there. I felt bad to be leaving the girls and my six younger brothers, Adam, David, Joseph, Noah, Aaron, and Abel, behind. I promised myself as I was packing that I would always be only a phone call away if one of them ever wanted to escape too. 

Once my bags were packed, I left them at the foot of my bed and made my way downstairs to the homeschool classroom where my younger siblings were doing their daily math work. It got me thinking about Sam and Dan's education. If they were always on the road they couldn't be getting a regular education at a normal school. I knew John wouldn't leave his children uneducated but having someone like me, who knew how to homeschool, would probably be a big help.

“Momma?” I got her attention away from where she was helping four-year-old Eve with her basic addition. 

“What do you need, honey?” She came to my side at the bookshelf. 

“I was thinking of doing some homeschool lessons with Mr. Winchester's sons,” I actually told the truth for once. “Do you have any textbooks or workbooks you aren't using anymore that you wouldn't mind me taking?”

“Oh, honey, tons,” Mom laughed. “Pretty much everything on this bookshelf and the last three shelves of that one,” she pointed to a shelf across the room. “That blue crate in the corner is full of storybooks and workbooks we aren't using anymore and you can have any worksheets in the bottom drawer of my desk. Oh, and in the garage, there's a bunch of Action Children's Bible boxed up. Daddy's taking them to give out on his next mission trip to South America. I'm sure he won't mind you taking a couple.”

“Thanks, Momma.” I leaned over and hugged her. Just because I didn't agree with her beliefs didn't mean that I didn't love her. She was still my mom and she had done a lot for me in my life.

“Why don't you box up what you need and then come and meet me in my room for a little girl time,” Mom said as she hugged me back. “I want some time with you before you leave you.”


	7. Chapter 7

When I arrived in my parents' bedroom it was to find my mom kneeling at the foot of the bed. At first, I thought she was praying. Then I noticed that the cedar chest that normally sat locked was open and she was pulling things out and stuffing them in a black leather backpack. 

“Momma?” I knocked on the door frame to get her attention.

“Come in, honey, and close the door,” she said as she got to her feet and closed the lid of the chest, re-locking it with a little gold key that she immediately put in the pocket of the pink hoodie she was wearing. “I have a few things I want to give you and some things that I need to say to you before you leave.” She took a seat on the bed and I did the same. 

“Momma, you're acting like I'm never coming back,” I laughed nervously. Was she on to me?

“That's because you're not, Atara,” she shook her head sadly. “Not if I have any say in the matter. I know who John Winchester is. I know what he does...because I used to do it too.”

“What?” I looked at the woman who had given me like in total disbelief. “You were a hunter?”

Mom chuckled. “I wasn't born married to your father. My family's name was Colt. We're descended from Samuel Colt, the gun-maker. What most people don't know was that he was also a hunter, one of America's first. He even founded an organization, the Men of Letters. It was their job to monitor and hunt the supernatural in America. The Men of Letters was wiped out by a demon in the '50s but an underground network of hunters still exists. My family was a part of that network.”

“What happened to your family?” I have never known a thing about her side of the family. It was the first she had ever spoken of them to me. 

“1969. I was in Blue Earth with my daddy and older brother. We had heard about a vampire nest here in town.” A tear escaped Mom's eye but she quickly wiped it away. “We were wrong. It was a werewolf pack. My daddy and your uncle, Patrick, were both killed and I only got away because your uncle killed the wolf that was chasing me with his dying breath. I was eighteen and alone. My momma had died giving birth to me. I met your daddy, thought he was Prince Charming and fell into his religion. Eighteen years later, here I am. I don't want this life for you, Atara. I'm stuck because I have your brothers and sisters to look after but John Winchester is your way out, honey.”

“How do you know John,” I inquired. 

“I still have some hunter friends that I speak to from time to time,” Mom replied. “He's made a name for himself as one of the best hunters there is. Now, how do you know John?”

“He performed a spell that lets you visit your soul mate in your dreams,” I blushed and mumbled. 

Mom smiled. “Eighteen and you've already found your soul mate. My friend, Ellen, says he's not too hard on the eyes either.”

My face was burning but I giggled, shook my head, and said, “He's not bad looking AT ALL.”

Mom leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “I'm happy for you, Honey.” She pulled back and pulled the backpack into her lap. “Now, I have some things for you.”

The first thing Mom pulled out of the bag was a small key-ring. It held only two keys. One was small and modern. The other was big and brass and looked to be very old. “The little one opens a safe deposit box in Beaufort, North Carolina.” She handed me the keys. “Inside you'll find all of the Colt family banking information and about $30,000 in cash. Hunting's expensive and Samuel Colt left his descendants quite the safety net. It's yours to have for whatever you may need. It's what Samuel wanted the money used for.”

“What about the other key?”

“It opens the Men of Letters bunker. Inside you'll find the largest supernatural library in the world, every answer to every question.”

“Where is this bunker?”

Mom shook her head. “Somewhere in the flyover states. The location died with the Men of Letters. The best clue I can give you is this.” She pulled an old, brown, leather-bound journal from the backpack. “It's Samuel Colt's journal.”


	8. Chapter 8

I was awake at four in the morning on Saturday. I had tried to go back to sleep but I was a jittery ball of nerves. I was out of bed and dressed by five. When my younger sisters began to rise, I finally left my bedroom and went downstairs. Like every morning for my whole life, I found my mom in the kitchen making breakfast. Given all that she had shared with me, I couldn't resister giving her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek as she stood at the stove frying up bacon before I took my place, for the last time, at the dining room table. 

We ate, we prayed, and I managed to hug, kiss, and say goodbye to my younger siblings before the doorbell rang.

My heart was beating so hard and so fast that I could hear it in my ears. The butterflies in my stomach felt more like a murder of crows who all suffered from ADHD. I heard my dad answer the door, heard him politely greet John. I heard the mellow rumble of John's voice but he was speaking too lowly for me to make out what he was saying. Finally, I heard footsteps coming down the hallways towards the living room.

John was wearing a pair of Levi jeans, a tight black t-shirt, and a brown leather jacket with a pair of combat boots that looked like they were actually military issued. Remembering that John had, at one point, been a Marine he realized that the boots probably were made by the military. John's looks contrasted horribly with my dad's black slacks and hideous multicolored sweater that looked like he had borrowed in from Mr. Rogers.

When our eyes met for the first time, John gave me a small, reassuring smile.

"John Winchester, I would like to introduce you to your new nanny, my oldest daughter, Atara." Dad nodded at me to give me permission to speak.

I looked at John from beneath my eyelashes, bowed my head in respect, and gave him a perfect smile...just like I had been trained to do in the presence of a man. "It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Winchester."

John kind of looked like he wanted to laugh but he held it together pretty well. "It's lovely to meet you too, Miss Draper." He winked at me when my dad's head was turned.***After an hour of idle chit chat, even more prayer, and another round of hugs from my siblings, my dad and the oldest three boys, Adam, David, and Joseph, loaded my stuff into the trunk of John's 1969 chevy impala.

John and I didn't speak as we pulled out of my parents' driveway. And I wasn't as sad as I thought I should be when my childhood home vanished from the rearview mirror. When we were about a mile away from my parents' home and off the dirt road and on the asphalt, John pulled over to the shoulder of the road and put the car in park.

"What are you doing?" I looked at John in concern.

John smirked. "Come here, baby girl." He leaned over and reached up and cupped my cheek in his large hand. Coaxing me closer, he laid a soft kiss on my lips.


End file.
